Debbie Dingle's Heart
by wolfchic011
Summary: Debbie Dingle has always had trouble trusting people. And loving people. And showing affection. But lately, Debbie's been feeling that she's not as heartless as she thinks… Character study of Debbie. One-shot. Set after Jasmine's 18th birthday.


_Debbie Dingle's heart_

"A little harder… that's it… right there…" Debbie leaned forwards slightly. "Now… now… throttle now Jasmine!"

The motorbike under them rumbled and revved as Jasmine turned the knob. The two girls let out screams of exhilaration as the orange motorcycle ripped down the road of Emmerdale, heading out towards Hotten at breakneck speed. Debbie gripped Jasmine harder and screamed in her ear. "Lean, Jas! Lean into the turn!"

Jasmine leaned and Debbie felt the momentum force her that way too, still clinging desperately to Jasmine as they leaned over the turn and finally rounded it, straightening up again.

Debbie tightened her hold around Jasmine's waist, pressing her entire chest and middle against Jasmine's back. "Maybe we should slow down until you get the hang of this..!" She yelled in the girl's ear.

She felt Jasmine's grin through her entire body."Scared Debs?"

"Yes!" Debbie cried. "Terrified of you killing me!"

She both heard and felt Jasmine laugh. The bike approached another turn, Jasmine still holding the throttle down.

"Ease up Jasmine!" Debbie shouted. "Ease up!"

But it was too late; the bike hit the turn too hard and skidded out from under them. Debbie tightened her hold on Jasmine as they went flying off the bike but found her grip breaking when they smashed to the grass. She skidded away from Jasmine, rolling twice before she finally stopped.

Debbie took several deep breaths as pain rolled through her beaten form. But after a few seconds she realized she could move. Pushing herself to her elbows she looked around.

"Jas?"

The bike was a few dozen feet to her right, looking more than a little beaten up. And to her left…

Debbie leapt to her feet, all pain forgotten.

"Jas! Jasmine!" She fell to her knees as she reached Jasmine's fallen form. "Are you okay?"

Jasmine groaned and rolled onto her back. "I'm fine… I'm fine it's just a scratch."

There was an awful lot of blood for just a scratch. Debbie tore her eyes from the oozing cut on Jasmine's forearm to examine the rest of her friend's body. No twisted ankles, no exposed bones, no punctures.

"A rock must've scraped me when I fell…" Jasmine said, pushing herself slowly up into a sitting position. She pressed a hand against her arm, as if trying to hide the bleeding cut.

Debbie's whole body shuddered in relief. "Can you stand?" She asked.

Jasmine nodded and accepted Debbie's hand. Once she was standing however, her swaying form fell heavily onto Debbie.

"Sorry Debs…"

The taller girl gently pulled Jasmine's uninjured arm over her shoulder. "Come on… we need to take care of that."

* * *

Debbie wet the rag again before putting it back to Jasmine's arm. "You need to be more careful."

Jasmine chuckled. "Never thought I'd hear that from you…" She winced as Debbie applied more pressure. They were standing in their kitchen back at Tug Ghyll, Debbie trying to clean Jasmine's gritty arm without being sick.

"Oi! I didn't get you that motorbike so that you could kill yourself having a joy ride!" Debbie snapped at her as she pulled the rag away to get a better look at the wound. She picked up a small pair of tweezers. "I got it for you so you could take me on lovely rides around the town."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, you were worse than me!"

"I wasn't the one driving!"

"Yeah, you were the one screaming…"

If Debbie hadn't been so concerned about getting the lumps of gravel out of Jasmine's arm, she would have smacked her for that. She pulled one free a little harder than she meant to and Jasmine hissed in pain.

"You could've gotten yourself killed Jas." Debbie continued placing the hunk of gravel aside and going after another one. "Then what would I do?"

Jasmine smiled at her from behind watery eyes. "I'm sure Daz would love to split the rent with you." She closed her eyes as Debbie pulled another lump free and the cut bled freely again.

Debbie dropped the tweezers and picked up the rag again, hastily dabbing away the drips of blood as if the cut were life threatening.

"You'd probably end up killing 'im in a week." Jasmine joked when Debbie didn't respond.

Debbie was too focused on making sure the cut was absolutely clean to reply. Seeing no more gravel, she pulled a bandage out of her box of first aid supplies and pulled the bloody rag off of the cleaned wound. Jasmine winced as Debbie began to wind the bandage around her arm.

"Not so tight Debs, you trying to cut off my circulation?"

Debbie still didn't respond but she did loosen up her wrapping. When she ran out of bandage, she tied it off, her fingers lingering on the expanse of linen.

"You're the only one I could ever live with." She told the bandage. "Please don't scare me like that again."

She could feel Jasmine looking at her but she couldn't seem to raise her head. The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet exhales and the steady thrumming of Debbie's pulse in her ears.

"Want a cuppa?" Debbie finally asked, pulling her hand away from Jasmine's arm and grabbing the kettle.

"Just some water thanks."

Neither of them said anything as Debbie filled the kettle, boiled the water and poured some for herself.

"I didn't mean to scare you Debbie." Jasmine said softly as Debbie filled a glass for her with cold water. "It was just an accident, I won't make a habit of it."

Debbie closed her eyes briefly. "Jasmine…" Her free hand reached for Jasmine's empty one as she passed her the glass. Jasmine paused, seeming startled by the contact. Their eyes locked. Debbie struggled to remember what it was she had wanted to say. "…Be more careful…please?" She finally managed to say.

Jasmine just nodded. "I'm kind of tired Debs…I'm gonna go to bed."

She pulled her hands free, picked up her glass of water and slowly left the kitchen to head for the stairs all the while avoiding Debbie's eyes. Debbie remained where she was but with each step Jasmine took away from her, the tighter her hands seemed to grip her mug.

"Want to do lunch tomorrow at the pub?" She called after Jasmine's retreating form.

Jasmine half turned back to her. "I'm meeting Shane…sorry Debs." Debbie could see the apologetic smile on her face. "Night Debbie."

Debbie did not respond. She remained standing at the kitchen counter as Jasmine climbed the stairs and the door to her room closed.

_Shane._ Debbie knew she had no right to tell Jasmine she was spending far too much time with that sorry excuse for a cop. But that didn't stop her from hating the man and from being frustrated with Jasmine for her lack of worry.

Jasmine had stopped listening to her, had stopped caring when she had concerns. Then again, Debbie had never been the one to be worried about consequences, quite the opposite actually. But this was serious. Jasmine could end up seriously hurt if she wasn't careful around people like Shane.

You'd think she'd know better after what happened with…

_No._

_Bad idea. Don't go there…_

Debbie squeezed her eyes shut like it would keep her from facing the inevitable onslaught of pain that welled up as her mind turned to _that_ path.

_No… _

She always tried her best to forget the painful memories of that spring. But sometimes there were days when the buried memories burrowed to the surface and overtook her. Then she would spend several hours stuck in place, lost in that pain. It was like watching a film of someone else's life. She couldn't look away. But she couldn't sympathize with the girl crying over something she herself had already felt all too concretely.

Watching Jasmine kiss Cain had ripped her heart out and left it to drown in tears. She had let it struggle and flounder and die and eventually, her exterior followed suit. Her face hardened and her eyes dried.

Stoic. Closed off. Inaccessible.

For a long while, Debbie was sure she no longer had a heart. But they had gotten past that. Jasmine and her had moved on and rebuilt their friendship on the mutual understanding that they loved each other and would always be there for each other. As friends. That there was no way they could pick up where their young, naïve selves had left off. There was just too much pain there, too much baggage, too many raw memories.

But lately, it had become harder and harder to remind herself of that. The memories were growing sweet again, growing deep, with long silences that held so many unspoken words and unexpressed feelings. Her heart was slowly growing back. And it was growing for Jasmine.

Debbie realized she was still clutching the mug in her hands rather tightly. A mug containing water that was by no means cool enough to handle. Nor anywhere close to tea; she hadn't added leaves. She loosened her grip, feeling her tender palms sting as the cool air hit them. But to Debbie the pain was minimal, insignificant.

Jasmine had slowly wormed her way back into Debbie's trust over the years. She had done so completely without intending to, without expecting anything from Debbie. Then again, she could hardly know that the only soft spot in Debbie's entire body was reserved only for her.

Did it honesty not hurt Jas? All those times they were alone together, a mere flicker of what they once were? All the times when they could have been sneaking kisses like they used to, holding each other close, their ears pricked for the slightest sound to warn them they'd have to spring apart to avoid Ashley's judgment? All the times when Debbie had wanted to lean in and kiss her but had held back? All those times they'd held each other and cried since they'd moved in together and Debbie had longed to step over that line and let Jas know that she'd _always _be there, forever, protecting her and holding her and kissing her until she couldn't breathe if only Jasmine gave the word?

Debbie closed her red palms into tight fists. But she didn't say such a thing. She couldn't. They were both straight, they'd found that out the hard way.

It was fine for Jas, she had accepted her identity and her role in the world. She had moved on, dating men and breaking their hearts with a vengeance. And Debbie stayed motionless, still immobilized by those short months when she had had someone she could love, someone she could open up to. Someone she trusted completely and utterly. Jasmine.

Debbie roughly pushed herself away from the counter, leaving her still hot mug of tea where it was. It was too late to think about things like this. She had a busy day tomorrow now that she was going to have to repair the motorbike.

Debbie shut off the kitchen light and crossed the sitting room to get to the stairs. It was late, she should stop such painful re-run thinking and go to sleep.

She hoped Jasmine realized just how much she would do for her if she only asked.

Debbie paused as the desperate realization overtook her. Her hand was on the banister but she couldn't seem to move up or down. Stuck in place by this desire. Sometimes she thought about such a thing. What if she were to step across that line again? What if one day she just put all these thoughts into words and directed them at Jasmine?

Some days she felt like she was ready to do such a thing. Most nights as she drifted between wakefulness and dreams she resolved herself to doing exactly that.

But then day would break, she would go to work and inevitably, Shane would show up and parade Jasmine around on his arm like he fucking owned her. Like she was some kind of badge he could wear. And Debbie would burn and boil as she thought about what he did to Jasmine. What he wanted to do. It was like this with every boy Jas had dated. None of them had ever wanted anything more for the wonderful girl then to fuck her and leave her.

Debbie tightened her grip on the banister, her burned hands protesting.

She didn't care if Jasmine no longer wanted her. She didn't care if Jasmine took her advice or not. She didn't care if there was some goddamn heir-bringer of doom descending from above to keep them apart. She didn't care that both of them were straight. Jasmine Thomas was _hers_.

And no matter what, she was going to get her back.


End file.
